


Small Talk

by conflagrantThief



Category: Darker Than Black
Genre: Alternate Universe, Contractor Swap, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conflagrantThief/pseuds/conflagrantThief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a British diplomat wonders why he can't ever meet normal women. Or he might, if the one pointing a gun at his head was a little less pleasant to look at.</p><p>Instead, he wonders how he let his conversational skills get so rusty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Talk

**Author's Note:**

> An unpolished, drabble-ish thing that got out of hand. Somehow shock at the fact that nobody had already written this kind of AU turned into the urge to write a bit of it myself.

"So you're a contractor? I've never seen one in person before."

"Lucky you. Unfortunately, you probably won't ever see another, Minister."

"And why is that?" The gun pointed at his head probably made the answer rather obvious, but he felt like hearing the words said out loud anyways. After all, assassins didn't just walk into his office every day. Well, they did, but usually only to sort out their paperwork.

"Because I'm going to kill you." Her tone was coolly patient, as though she had to deal with such inane questions every day. 

_Well, why not give her a few more then?_ Jack thought to himself. If chatting up a beautiful woman might be what it took to keep from dying, he certainly wasn't going to complain. "What could possibly make you want to do that?"

"I'm being paid to, obviously."

"Really? I wasn't aware anyone hated me enough to actually waste money on arranging my death." Though now that he thought of it, he hadn't exactly been making many friends since his promotion.

"Don't worry, Minister, it's probably nothing as personal as _hate_. Men like you just have a way of, well, getting in the way." As she spoke her face remained as serious as a funeral march, though her shoulders twitched in a way one might call a shrug if one was generous. "Besides, they're not wasting their money if I get the job done."

"And I suppose you're the kind of woman who always gets the job done?" 

"I always get paid, Minister."

"Ah, well, that is infinitely reassuring. You have no idea how pleased I am to know that I'm in your capable hands." He searched his mind for another way to stall, thinking of contractors and their logic, of _this_ contractor's neat avoidance of his question and of April on her way up with one of the SIS's best teams. "Just tell me one thing, please: if you're really a contractor, why do you feel the need to bring a gun along on an assassination attempt?"

"Maybe I just like guns." 

The contractor's chilly gaze didn't falter for so much as a moment, even against the most charming smile Jack could muster. And even with a gun in his face, he couldn't help but notice that she had the loveliest hair. _Like Rapunzel,_ a faint voice in his head supplied, just as the doors exploded open.

And as his office was overrun with SIS agents and his new favorite contractor made her escape, Jack did all the things a Minister of Foreign Affairs was meant to do when everything went to hell, but at the back of his mind lingered the thought that her hair would be _so soft_ beneath his hands.


End file.
